


Not without me

by ChocoNut



Series: Many ways to say I love you [42]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Feels, Post Season 8, Post canon, Reunion, jaime is alive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-24 04:38:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19165978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: Bran wants Brienne to resign from the Kingsguard, and when Brienne learns why, she isn't happy at all.





	Not without me

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is, another impulsive piece!

A long and tiring session later, the council meeting came to an end with the members beginning to disperse one-by-one. Brienne was among the last to leave, just about to step out, when the king demanded to be wheeled back into the chamber.

“Ser Brienne, would you stay on a bit longer as well?” he invited her in his usual placid tone, pointing to the chair closest to the entrance. “I have a matter of importance to speak to you about.”

Wondering what it could be, Brienne retraced her steps to the table when she noticed Pod lingering at the door, eyeing her questioningly. “Not him,” said the king, following her gaze, “only you.” Even more curious and now mildly apprehensive, she dismissed Pod with a slight nod, ominous thoughts filling her head with various possibilities of what could be amiss. Was there a breach of security that she was unaware of? Was the King in some sort of danger? Was he displeased with her service? Had she inadvertently erred somewhere?

 _If he throws me out, I could always return to Sansa,_ she decided, reassuring herself, the idea that she’d be protecting a Stark either way providing her wandering mind with a bit of solace. _But being in Sansa’s service won’t be the same as carrying forward Jaime’s legacy and keeping his torch aflame,_ a small voice from deep within her heart told her, the part of her that wasn't able to get over him even after months had passed. To the outside world, she had moved on, doing her duty for her king and her country, but nothing could soothe the continuously aching corner of her heart - the one that still pined for Jaime and so desperately craved his touch.

 _But the dead are gone, and gone they will be forever,_ she reminded herself once more, like every other time she was haunted by thoughts of him, locking his memories deep inside her heart, safely stored for her to recall at will, which was pretty much every time she was alone and her mind unoccupied. Every time she missed him. Every minute of her life, either consciously or subconsciously.

However, now was not the time to dwell on the past. She focused on the boy king, waiting for him to spill out whatever it was that he was going to inflict on her.

“Ser Brienne, I regret to inform you that I would have to terminate your services,” he unveiled his decision, his words hitting her like a punch to the gut. “Here’s my official decree relieving you of all the responsibilities and the rules that accompany your position.” He handed her a scroll.

Her mind numbed by this unpleasant news, Brienne took it from him. “I--May I know why?” she asked, without even bothering to open it. “Are you displeased with any aspect of my service, your grace?”

“Not at all,” Bran reassured her at once, “quite the contrary, in fact. I’m going to have a difficult time replacing you.”

She failed to understand why he was doing this. “Why, then?”

He fixed her with one of those gazes that could make even the toughest of men uncomfortable. “Your father, Lord Selwyn, wrote to me with a request.”

“What did he ask for?” Brienne could almost guess, but thought it better to hear from him than jump into conclusions.

“You’re the last surviving heir to Tarth after him, aren't you?”

“Yes, your grace.” A wave of panic hit her when she realized what unfavourable direction this conversation was heading in.

“It is his wish that you marry and carry his legacy forward,” he declared, “and fulfil your responsibility as his daughter and the future leader of your people.”

“I bear no such inclination,” she objected, her heart sinking with even the idea of replacing Jaime within just months of his demise.

“I concur with your father, my lady, and that is what you must do,” the King told her in a conclusive tone, the faintest of smiles appearing on his lips.

Marriage the last thing on her mind, Brienne decided to fight for her right to live the way she wanted to. “My duty is to guard you.”

“And this is your duty towards your house.” Bran refused to relent. “Your father has found an alliance for you--”

Brienne wasn’t listening to him anymore. Her insides boiling with rage, she would’ve interrupted him had he not been the supreme ruler of the six kingdoms.

“--a lord of noble birth, who I’m sure you’d approve of,” he concluded.

“Who it is my father chooses is inconsequential,” she resisted, “I do not intend--”

“Why don’t you pay your father a visit?” Bran suggested, the all-knowing smile still pasted on his lips. “You could talk to him until you both reach a consensus.”

+++++

It took Brienne all the self control she could gather to refrain from bellowing at her father when she stormed past his guards into the great hall.

“My dear!” Selwyn Tarth rose to greet his daughter with the widest smile she’d ever seen on him. _I’m not surprised he’s so full of glee,_ she thought angrily, _he’s got the king to do his bidding, after all._

“May I know what you’ve been up to behind my back?” she asked with a forced calm to her tone.

“Doing what’s good for you,” he answered, his voice even and composed.

“I _am_ doing what’s good for me,” she snapped.

“That’s not how I look at it,” her father argued, not to be left behind, “I’ve found you a match, and for your own sake, I’d urge you to first meet him before you decide against him.”

She stood there, her arms folded across her chest, her stance stubborn and adamant. “Your efforts are futile, I’m not interested--”

“And I’m not taking no for an answer,” said her father, as unrelenting as her.

“You can’t expect me to do this,” she was almost pleading with him now, the thought of another man replacing Jaime in her closely guarded heart causing her immense pain. “I’ve loved once and lost. I can’t fall in love again. I can’t take another man. I _was_ \--” she paused to correct herself, for Jaime would forever live in her memories “--I _am_ his--”

“--and I am yours, Brienne,” came an achingly familiar voice from behind her, his tone soft, not unlike the soothing one he’d kissed her ears with when he had knighted her, all of it fresh in her memory as if she’d heard him yesterday.

Shocked beyond measure and hoping this wasn’t a cruel joke her mind was playing on her, she turned around slowly.

“I will always be yours,” he went on in the same tender voice, approaching her as he spoke.

“Jaime!”

It had been ages since she’d uttered his name. Very rarely had she brought the word to her lips after she’d recorded his deeds, the name and the memories of the man it belonged to residing only within her, not to be spoken often, except perhaps to Tyrion.

“I don’t know what to say,” Jaime whispered, drinking her in with his eyes, the love and longing in them too much for her to bear.

“Say nothing,” she whispered back, running her fingers over his stump to feel him, to ascertain that it really was him, for she was worried that it might be her eyes and ears deceiving her, out to trick her with a beautiful, but unreal vision.

“I’m not even sure if an apology would suffice,” he went on, the pain in his eyes akin to that she’d seen the night he had taken her leave.

“No, it wouldn’t suffice.” She shook her head vigorously, fighting to make the tears that accumulated in her eyes go away. “But perhaps an ' _I love you'_ might,” she croaked, bringing the end of his stump to her lips, kissing it the way she had when he’d first bedded her, overwhelming him with her unbounded affection.

And Jaime only seemed to be too eager to obey her. “Gods, I love you, wench!” He finally graced her with those four little words she’d yearned so badly to hear from him, before pulling her into an embrace.

“Don’t you ever stop calling me 'wench',” she spoke into his neck, holding on to him as if her life depended on it, allowing herself to drown in his familiar scent and the feel of his skin as she ran her fingers along the nape of his neck. “You can’t imagine how badly I've missed your stupidly arrogant voice calling me this awfully rude thing you used as a petty weapon to insult me with,” she breathed, shedding silent, but joyous tears into his shirt.

Gently drawing away from her arms, he reached out to wipe her cheeks. “I’m never going to leave you again,” he promised her, “not until death--”

She pressed her lips to his, eager to feel the life in him once more, elated that he was with her at last, his warm lips the quiet comfort they had always been. He tasted the same, like honey and wine and everything irresistible, and he felt the same, soft and tender, wild and passionate, all at the same time, all of him just for her. She pushed closer, her chest against his, desperate to feel the reassuring beat of his heart. They kissed like never before, surrendering to their needs, melting into each other, two bodies, two souls and two hearts beating as one, alive as one, inseparable for the rest of their lives.

“Not death. It can wait this time,” Brienne said firmly when they had drawn apart, “until after we’ve discovered life together.”

“So, my dear,” drawled her father, reminding them of his presence in the room, “didn’t I tell you to first meet him before jumping into conclusions?” He grinned at her from ear to ear. “And am I right in assuming that you have agreed to marry him? You can’t imagine the torture he put me through when he arrived, seeking your hand in marriage. The Lannisters can be quite persuasive.”

“I hope it’s a yes, wench,” Jaime implored, kissing her softly on the lips.

“It is,” she said, smiling, “and you’re not running away that easily again. Not without me.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and do let me know if you enjoyed it!


End file.
